I'll Remember You Always
by theCuillere
Summary: Kurt awakens in a house that isn't his, in a bed that isn't his, with a boyfriend that definitely isn't his, to discover he has a head trauma and no memory of the previous year. Said boyfriend who knows his body so well and who won't let him go. SMUT
1. Chapter 1

**Media**: Fic  
><strong>Title<strong>: I'll Remember You Always (1/?)  
><strong>Word count<strong>:~3,200 for this chapter  
><strong>Rating<strong>: NC-17  
><strong>Spoilers<strong>: None  
><strong>Warnings<strong>: (for the whole story) AU, both top!Kurt and bottom!Kurt, language, frottage; handjobs; blowjobs; face-fucking; fingering; barebacking; sex; smut, you know how it works!  
><strong>Disclaimer<strong>: Glee is a propriety of Fox Studios and unfortunately, I am not Fox Studios.

**Summary**: Kurt awakens in a house that isn't his, in a bed that isn't his, with a boyfriend that definitely isn't his, to discover he has a head trauma and no memory of the previous year. While he still has a preference for tall jocks that fear mailmen and date his best friends, Kurt can't help but react to his "new" boyfriend's touches... Said boyfriend who knows his body so well and who won't let him go.

Inspired by the manga "Dear Myself".

**A/N: **I've started that fic long ago and completely forgot it existed until two days ago. Yeah, I have memory problems too, apparently.  
>Wait... Who is this gorgeous man in my bed with the triangular eyebrows?<p>

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><p>It lasted less than a minute. At first, he gathered something smooth blocking his steps and he felt like the floor was moving to a vertical position. The ground hit his chest and he couldn't breathe for a few seconds. When the cold air made its way back into his lungs, he thought that it was going to be all right, until the pressure of someone's foot on his skull pushed him face down on the hard concrete. The shock resonated though his whole body. He was tasting blood and he knew it wasn't only from his broken front tooth. The rock was already starting to feel wet beneath his forehead. He turned his head sideways, fighting for his eyes to stay open, as his attacker continued to send violent kicks into his sides. The blows stopped for a few seconds, but the thought that the other man had come to an end didn't even cross his mind; he knew the aggressor wouldn't leave until he was dead.<p>

Why hadn't he accepted when Mercedes proposed to give him a ride?

He felt weight on his lower back as the bully sat on him and entangled his fingers in his hair. His head hit the floor once, twice and after the third time, he knew that it was over.

He didn't recall being pulled into any car, or transported on anybody's back, but there was no way he was still in that street. He laid his painful head on the mellow mattress he had no souvenir of getting on and tried to clear his mind. He let out a loud breathy moan.

All the pain in his body was concentrated in his sulk. He felt like the totality of his blood was pulsing in his brain and the bitter taste in his mouth left him dizzy. Oddly, it was about the only uneasiness he resented as the rest of his body was feeling pretty comfortable. With fast movements that should have had been a lot more painful, he used his arms to push himself into a sitting position. The action of opening his eyes, on the other hand, was a real challenge and he had to gather all his energy into the motion. He was blinded by the very bright light of the room for a few seconds before he was able to absorb his surroundings. He had to admit his kidnapper had a lot of taste; he had been forced into a very nicely decorated bedroom. The cream-colored walls were totally at his fancy and he silently confessed that he had contemplated changing the cold blue that was covering the basement of his house to a warmer and more inviting shade.

While the boy could have sat there and reviewed the designing of the bedroom for hours, he rapidly came back to his sense: the simple fact that he was indeed laying on a _bed _made him worry out of his mind. He urgently glanced down and sighed in relief when he got the confirmation that he was not naked. He was, in fact, clothed with what seemed to be a royal blue _cashmere_ cardigan, black skin fitting jeans, and clung to his torso was a mist gray cotton gingham shirt that could not be mistaken for anything but Burberry. He was even wearing laced grunge boots that hugged his legs to his knees, and the logos on the sides told him that they were nothing else than Jeffrey Campbell. His kidnapper had dressed him like a freaking rock star.

He turned his legs to one side of the tall queen-sized bed and pushed himself on his feet. He had to find a way to escape that bedroom he had been locked in. He ran to the nearest window, pulled the chocolate-brown curtains open and immediately evaluated the locks. Then he stopped when he noticed the view before his eyes.

There was no dark alley or a pile of corpses on the other side of the glass. The house he was in seemed to be situated in a wealthy neighborhood and he could see children running around the street. The surprise left him star struck for a few seconds before he came back to his senses and screamed for help. A young girl in a purple dress looked at him like he had gone mad but other than that nobody seemed to react. He kept pleading for a few minutes before he gave up and decided that his actions would do nothing but give a reason for small children to judge him. He stepped away from his spot near the window.

He backed off to sit on the bed and sighed in defeat. Even if it seemed like his abductor had treated him well, he felt like he was missing out on something really important. He wondered for how long he had been sleeping, considering the fact that the sun had just set before he had been attacked. His healed body made him feel like it had been a while, at least a few days. While it would be impossible that he had been sleeping the whole time, he could have been unconscious, or drugged... What if he had just forgotten the past few days? Hence the expensive clothes... So many terrible things could have had happened... Had he been raped? Was that why he swore he could feel a slight burn in his lower back? Suddenly, the panic made his body a lot less at ease.

He jumped off the bed once again and started to walk around the room nervously. With every step he took, he felt the ache more and tears made their way to his eyes. He couldn't believe that when all his life no guy had ever even glanced his way, he had now been forced into losing his virginity to a homophobic bully. What if his kidnapper was a closeted homosexual who was looking for a good time and didn't want anybody to know? What if he had just became the man's sexual slave?

He needed to get out of here. There was no way he was letting the pervert near him ever again. But before that, he needed to discover his attacker's name, to find something that could identify him. He could not let him run free. He had to have him arrested.

There was nothing but books in the shelves that covered a complete wall and even if he had to admit all the novels in there were of his taste, he was really not looking for literature at this very moment. He crossed the room and knelt in front of the nightstand. In the first drawer, he found nothing but a small bottle of what seemed like lube, of the brand _Durex Play,_ and a box of _Trojan_ condoms. _The large ones._ Kurt shivered at what seemed to confirm his doubts. At least, they had been protected...

The bottom drawer was filled with fashion magazines of all sorts. That realization explained a lot. The well-chosen clothes he was wearing didn't seem so odd anymore. What seemed odd, on the other hand, was that he didn't recognize any of the cover of the magazines in front of him. And who was he to forget the front page of Vogue? _I must have been hit really hard_, he thought.

He was closing the second drawer when a picture frame on top of the night table caught his attention. He rapidly stretched his arm and brought it closer. He had been looking for his aggressor's identity for long minutes when his portrait had been in front of him the whole time.

He had to recognize the man was not bad looking. The dark, curly hair and triangular eyebrows didn't do it too much for him, but he could have been much worse, especially considering that the guy had _kidnapped _him. It was not like it would have been very difficult for the man to get laid.

His reflections were interrupted by a melody, a catchy techno melody that suddenly came out of nowhere. While he seemed to have issues with his memory, he would have had remembered this voice within millions. Why had he never heard this song? He knew Lady Gaga had composed a lot of singles in the past that he didn't know about but he had a feeling this one would have been popular enough to show on top of his iTunes Store selections. The poor quality of the tune was without a doubt erupting from somewhere in the room and in a jolt he realized it was probably the ring tone of a mobile phone. He needed to find that phone. It was his only way out.

The song seemed to come from one of the beige doors. He ran to it, praying that it wouldn't be locked, and turned the knob. A creaking noise erupted from the casing and at the same moment, the melody came to an end. But Kurt wasn't so bothered by it. He was too busy being astonished by the contents of the enormous walk-in. It was like stepping in the middle of your biggest dream: he could swear half of these clothes were either Alexander McQueen or Marc Jacobs. He couldn't believe his teary eyes as he ran his sweaty hands over the different types of expensive materials. He'd do anything to own _half_ of these and if for that he needed to be molested by a guy with way too much gel in his hair, he would definitely stay.

His train of thoughts was abruptly stopped by a voice he recognized very well. It came from the left wall and since Kurt didn't distinguish any other voice, he guessed the man was talking on the phone. Was it possible that Finn was the kidnapper? After he had defended him in a Lady Gaga costume the week before, they had been in pretty good terms. He wouldn't have knocked him to near death, would he have?

No, it was absolutely impossible: Finn had had a multiplicity of occasions to have him in his bed and he had always refused his advances. There was no way he would have had beaten him up in order to have his way with him. Not to forget Finn had no taste in fashion at all, let alone in home staging.

Maybe Finn was here to save him? It was possible, he was his step-brother after all. At that thought, he started knocking on the wall desperately and shouting for help. He finally had a chance to get out of there and with some luck, the quarterback would help him steal the luxurious outfits.

He sighed in relief as a few minutes later, Finn burst in the bedroom.

"Dude, you're up!" he said with voice full of guilt. "I am so, so sorry Kurt, I promise I will never let my dirty socks laying around the house again, I swear I panicked really hard when you passed out, please forgive me!"

Kurt put on his best bitch-face and blinked at the taller boy. "I don't care if you don't clean your socks, Finn, just help me get out of here!"

"What? Get out of where?" the jock replied, seeming confused. "Are you okay, Kurt?"

The boy saw red: he was really eager to leave this scary place and there Finn was, relaxed back on the door frame and discussing Kurt's health. He felt like kicking his brother in the shins.

"No, I am not _okay_, Finn!" Kurt shouted, pissed. "I was just kidnapped and fucked in the ass!"

Finn's face went pale. "That's way too much information, man!" he answered as he stepped back out of the room. "I don't wanna know about Blaine and yours' sex life!"

Kurt froze as Finn disappeared from his view. He was leaving him to his kidnapper. Was this a bad joke? One of the glee club's messed up plan he wasn't aware off? Surely they hadn't attacked him? They were his friends, or were they really? He sat on the bed in confusion. This situation didn't make sense at all. He pinched the skin of his wrist and got the confirmation he was dreading: he wasn't dreaming.

At least now, the door of the bedroom wasn't locked anymore. Silent tears made their way down his cheeks as he realized it probably had been unlocked the whole time. The house was silent again, but he had no wish of venturing to the other rooms. He was so confused. He laid his back on the mattress, wishing he could fell into oblivion and wake up to a better reality.

When he came back to his sense, the first thing he felt was tension in his legs. It was the first time he ever woke up to find his muscles already working and in his sleepy state, he realized his tights were indeed stretched, _open_ and trapping what seemed to be another person's waist with force. Same things went for his arms: they were wound tightly around that person's neck. Then he started to discern a wet and warm mouth on his own neck. The lips were running softly on one side, kissing and sucking at it slowly... They were boiling hot and his skin was humid with a layer of saliva. The other man was pressing him forcibly into the mattress with the weight of his body, with both his arms resting on the mattress around Kurt's head.

He finally realized what was happening and he jumped, only to create a hard pressure on his crotch. He couldn't help but whimper at the intimate contact of another man's penis: it was the first time he was ever even _touched _there and it felt unbelievably erotic. He turned his head to the side as he pressed the other boy's neck more desperately between the crooks of his arms and tightened his calves around his ass, opening his own tights as much as he could as he did so. As if he had understood the message, the stranger begun to very slowly rut his hips on Kurt's and started sucking more forcefully under his jaw. Even though he was laying on his back, Kurt's head felt dizzy with pleasure because of the clothed but distinguishably hard manhood that was pressing on his own in a repetitive motion and he tried to gain back his balance by sliding his hands down the man's back and grabbing his ass.

He couldn't believe how bold he was being. When all the sensations felt completely new and exciting to him, his body seemed to know exactly what it was doing. To punctuate his thoughts, his hands immediately pushed the other guy's ass into his crotch vigorously without a warning. In response to this, the other man's moist lips quit sucking at his skin and he climbed up his neck to moan loudly into his ear. Kurt whimpered again. This was the single best experience of his life. His body was so hot and he could feel his penis harden with every trust, to the point where he couldn't believe it could get any harder. He was harder than a rock, and so was the man he was with.

Kurt released the pressure his legs had on the other guy's waist, let them fall onto the sides with his feet flat on the bed and lifted his hips. In this position, the man's hard cock was brushing against his balls and perineum. The pleasure was so strong he swore he was about to burst into a billion pieces. The warm breathe grew faster on his ear. He reproduced the boy's actions and started biting and licking where his neck met his shoulder, trying not to moan too much like a whore.

His partner whimpered into his ear and murmured: "Kurt, baby, you fucking cock-tease. I should rip off your pants and fuck you raw without even thinking about fingering you."

Even though that was the one hottest warning he had ever received, it acted like a cold shower on him: he realized where he was and what had just happened. He pushed the stranger off of him and sat back on the bed with a small cry as he opened his eyes.

There kneeling on the bed in front of him was the guy from the photo on the nightstand. Even if he had seemed only relatively handsome and completely not his type of guy in picture, at this very moment, Kurt could only think he was glancing at the most attractive man he had ever seen. His flushed cheeks, dilated eyes and the huge erection that was tenting his trousers made his blood boil in his veins and his mouth dry.

"Are you okay Kurt?" the man asked. "I'm sorry I just attacked you in your sleep, but you just seemed so inviting laying on your back with your legs opened like that!"

Kurt tried to form words but the only thing that got out of his mouth was yet another whimper. He was uncontrollably aroused, but at the same time he couldn't help but be terrified out of his mind. He couldn't ignore the fact that the guy had almost killed him and then had rapped him on multiple occasions. Who was he to apologize now?

"I tried to call you at least a couple of times today and since I couldn't reach you I decided to contact Finn instead." the stranger continued. "He told me you slipped on a sock or something equality stupid and hit your head... So I thought I'd just drive here and take care of you, I hope you don't mind? We don't have to go to the sing-along if you don't feel like it!"

Kurt glanced at him with a clueless look. "May— may I ask you your name?"

The other man's face changed from affection to confusion. He stared at Kurt as if he had lost his mind. Which after further interrogation, the countertenor had conclude was probably the case.

"Kurt... Seriously... What's with the bad jokes? Are you alright?"

"No, I am not alright!" Kurt responded, obviously mad. "Why do people keep asking me that! I was just attacked, bullied, and I'm pretty sure I was raped!"

The man immediately grabbed his upper arms with a look of complete panic in his eyes. "What the fuck, Kurt, when did this happen? Why didn't you tell me earlier?"

"Hey, don't cry" Kurt pleaded. "I was coming back from Mercedes' and somebody jumped on me near that park in her neighborhood..."

He stopped in his track when he saw the tears that were staining the stranger's cheeks. He looked down at the comforter. This confirmed what he had suspected. "Obviously you are not the guy who attacked me, are you?" he said, and looked up at the other man. "Did you save me?"

"I did." the man responded. "I found you in the park and drove you to the hospital. But this happened more than a year ago, Kurt."

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><p>Please take the time the review, even if it is with a word or two. You can just write "Hey dude, I read your story" and it's still gonna make my year.<p>

Love you all!

TheCuillère


	2. Chapter 2

**Media**: Fic  
><strong>Title<strong>: I'll Remember You Always (2/?)  
><strong>Word count<strong>:~5,000 for this chapter  
><strong>Rating<strong>: NC-17  
><strong>Spoilers<strong>: None  
><strong>Warnings<strong>: (for the whole story) AU, both top!Kurt and bottom!Kurt, language, frottage; handjobs; blowjobs; face-fucking; fingering; barebacking; sex; smut, you know how it works!

**Summary**: Kurt awakens in a house that isn't his, in a bed that isn't his, with a boyfriend that definitely isn't his, to discover he has a head trauma and no memory of the previous year. While he still has a preference for tall jocks that fear mailmen and date his best friends, Kurt can't help but react to his "new" boyfriend's touches... Said boyfriend who knows his body so well and who won't let him go. Inspired by the manga "Dear Myself".

**Disclaimer** : Everything you can recognize isn't my propriety!

**A/N: **HERE YOU GO WITH THE SECOND CHAPTER GUYS! I'm sorry it took longer than expected, I kept re-reading it and re-reading it and I was always really skeptical about it, I felt like it needed many corrections so I pulled my hair trying to find what was wrong for like, _days_. I've also been really sick so I stayed home and after the second day of being left alone in my house in pain I was on like, 4 cups of tea, 3 cups of coffee and about 5 cups of hot cacao (but no soup 'cause I can't cook to save my life, I literally almost always burn my tea if that's even possible) and I was so high on caffeine that after the 58494958453th read I was like WOW THIS IS SO BEAUTIFUL MY POOR KURT and I was almost crying so I decided to FINALLY publish it. Still, I don't think you should expect an update every two days, I JUST realized how much work it was to write a fic and I'll probably post once or twice a week. Don't worry though, I won't let you guys down!

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><p>"You have nothing to worry about, Kurt" affirmed Dr Couillard in an over-enthusiastic tone that was all but appropriate to the situation. "It's a really common effect in the matter of head traumas."<p>

"_What_is a common effect? Nobody ever saw it fit to explain to me what exactly happened!"

Kurt shifted uncomfortably on the hard plastic of the chair as he glared at the woman. It was true: the "kidnapper" had run out of the room right after he had revealed the truth about the accident in order to get his phone out of his coat pocket and had called Burt in emergency. There he was now, discussing with a doctor he had no recollection of ever even greeting when apparently they had been meeting every Thursday evening for the last year. She was a young woman in her thirties, with a beautiful face and stylish glasses that justified why Finn had been so pleased to tag along with them.

Burt had also insisted that the boy who had earlier gifted him of his presence in his bed tag along with them. His father simply said that he was someone really close to Kurt, but the young man wasn't stupid. All the evidences pointed towards a very intimate relationship and he was pretty sure he would find them in a Facebook union when he got back home. He wasn't so sure he preferred reality to what he had assumed earlier: now he had to face the fact that he had been, in fact, clearly willing to lose his virginity to this boy. He was pissed at the other Kurt: he had no right to throw his body around like a cock slut when he hadn't ever allowed himself to masturbate. What would his mother have had thought if she had been sitting in the cold and tiny white room with the four of them?

And he still had no idea what his "boyfriend's" name was.

"According to your record," the young woman explained as she pointed at a file on her desk, "you were getting back from your friend Mercedes'…"

"Ex-friend!" the boy at Kurt's left corrected without taking his eyes off the white hospital floor.

"Blaine, shut up." argued the doctor. "You were leaving Mercedes' house when a bully that has yet to be identified attacked you and left you unconscious in the street. Blaine, here," she said as she flipped at the curly-haired teen, "was jogging around a park not far from where you were and saw you laying in your own blood. When you came back to your senses, you didn't even remember your own name. We kept you under observation at the hospital for more than two months, and, after a series of tests, we discovered you'd had a severe head trauma and there weren't many chances of you ever regaining the memory of your past."

Kurt couldn't believe what he was hearing. He nearly screamed in horror when his father patted his knee in an attempt to be comforting. He was nervous and on the verge of tears. It wasn't that he was surprised he'd been hit so violently he had lost his memory; it was what happened after that he dreaded. He couldn't recall setting foot in that hospital ever since his mother had died, let alone spending two months within its walls. This whole experience felt more like time travel than it amnesia to him.

Up until this point, he hadn't even known what to expect. He hadn't tried to guess what it was that could have happened to him. In fact, just trying to make assumptions made his head ache more than it did before. In all honesty, he was almost beyond the point of caring. He just wanted to sleep forever and to pretend none of this was happening. He wanted to go back to the safety of his house without bumping into bullies and come up with another stupid plan for Finn to switch teams. He wanted to complain about how winter always lasted way too long. He didn't want it to be the middle of the summer between his junior and senior year with a boyfriend who resembled a hobbit and an unchaste asshole.

"Apparently all your brain needed in order to recover was another concussion." continued the specialist. "Had I known before, I wouldn't have hesitated and I would have had hit you with a baseball bat _months_ago!"

To Kurt's utter surprise, that revelation made Burt laugh. The old man was sitting back in his chair comfortably, as if he was relaxing at the movies with a bag of popcorn in his lap.

"So, if I understand correctly, it's like someone else was in control of my body in the meantime?" asked Kurt with a frown.

"Oh, there is no way I am going to allow you to believe that, Mr. Hummel! It was you all along! A less bitchy and perhaps less sexually frustrated you, but it was still you! Now if you'll let me, I'd like to talk to Blaine and Finn in private."

He glanced at his father, who waved at Kurt to follow him. Together they walked towards a row of chairs in the adjacent corridor. A chill went through his body. He felt sick, and it wasn't only because of the lack of smell in the building, characterized by a gigantic dose of disinfecting products over a hint of an aroma of vomit and diarrhea. It wasn't because of the regular buzz of the machines that kept thousands of people alive on top of the baby cries that came from the nursery, nor the high-pitched screams of the patients of psychiatric ward either. It wasn't even because of the frightful and completely out of fashion white walls, floor and furniture. Kurt had seen his mother die on that same floor and he could not glance at one parcel of the room without feeling the tears making their way to his eyes.

He worded his thoughts to his father. "How could I have spent so many hours in that building? I can't be here and not think about mom. It makes me dizzy."

"You didn't even know you had a mother, remember?" his dad said with a calm voice. "I think you actually liked being here, to be honest. You had no worries when you were here. You had forgotten them all."

After a few minutes of silence, Burt continued. "And you had Blaine. I don't think you can see that right now, but you really do care about Blaine a lot. The kid saved your life in so many ways, don't be too harsh to him."

"He's not my type at all, though." defied Kurt. "I don't understand the other Kurt. I thought we were the same person."

"And why is he not? Blaine is one of the most charming men I have ever met, if I may say so myself, and he makes you happier than I've ever seen you before."

The younger man fell into one of the white plastic chairs and looked at his father in astonishment. "Are you aware that Blaine and... that other Kurt had what seemed to have... an active sexual relationship?"

Burt snorted as he sat next to his son. "Oh, yes, and a very active one at that. Let me take advantage of this situation to request that you lower the volume of your... voice when you guys get back together."

The boy gasped at his dad. He was pretty sure his face was redder than the McKinley football attire by now. "I don't think I want to 'get back together' with him."

None of them talked for a moment. Kurt was so overtaken by the events that he didn't have the power to even think about his situation. He just sat there, close to the comfort that was his parent, and listened to the worrying silence.

"I'm so sorry I missed your and Carole's wedding. I wish I had been there" he suddenly admitted. He had wanted to tell his dad for a while now. From the moment he had seen the ring around his dad's finger in the car on their way there...

"You were there, Kurt." said his father with his eyes full of pity. "In fact, you _were_pretty much the wedding. You organized everything, from the folded napkins on the tables to the color of the punch. You even chose Carole's dress for her!"

Kurt couldn't hold his tears anymore. He let them fall on his cheeks, and once he had begun, he couldn't stop. He felt betrayed, by himself. _He_ was the one who should have organized the wedding. _He_and not someone else.

His dad stared at him in silence. He probably knew that words wouldn't help his child believe the two_he_'s were the same person. Kurt waited for a hug, a pat on his head, anything. He needed comfort. It never came.

A few minutes later, the door of Dr. Couillard's office opened to reveal Blaine and Finn. The two Hummels stood back on their feet as the youngest wiped his tears with the back of his hands. An awkward silence followed as the four of them faced each other. Kurt knew from looking at Blaine's pained face that the other boy was making inhuman efforts to convince himself not to take "boyfriend" in his arms. He looked like he was on the verge of tears himself. Finally, after a moment, it was Finn who hugged his step-brother.

"So, what did the doc say?" asked Burt after a few seconds passed.

"Oh, nothing serious." Blaine explained.

"She requests that Kurt stays for a few tests, though." Finn continued.

Burt sighed. "I really have to get back to the garage now, though. Blaine, would you mind staying with Kurt and then driving him home?"

The countertenor looked at his dad with a look that clearly said "_don't you dare leave me alone with him_".

"Of course not, Burt." the teen said with a small smile on his lips. "I drove here with my own car in case this happened. Don't worry, I'll make sure everything is okay."

"I'd never doubt it, son!" the older man said, squeezing Blaine's shoulder in reconnaissance. "Now come on, Finn."

"Oh, I really don't mind staying here with my bros, you know!" Finn suggested.

"Finn..." argued Burt. "I said come on."

"Oh..." said Finn, confused. "OH! Okay, sure Burt." he continued in understatement.

Kurt stared at his two family members while they abandoned him in a scary hospital with his even scarier "boyfriend". He would get back at them for this.

It was indeed in Blaine's car that Kurt found himself two hours later. They were driving to their destination in the most awkward of silences. Kurt looked out of the window.

According to the doctor, there was a journal, somewhere in the Hummel-Hudson household, that kept descriptions of every single thing that had happened in his life in every day of the last year. It was after Dr Couillard had suggested that the situation he was currently in could happen that they had mutually agreed that he needed to keep traces of everything he did in order to enlighten the "old" Kurt once he would get his memory back. The only issue was that Kurt had no idea where said journal was. For God's sake, he didn't even know where the _bathroom_was in their new house.

It was Blaine's voice that put an end to his reflexions. "When I found you in the park, I thought you were the most beautiful person I had ever seen. I know it sounds morbid, since you were laying unconscious in a pool of blood, but I just..." he snorted, "I knew I couldn't let you die. I just _knew_ you would be important in my life and I couldn't let you fade away."

Kurt looked up at the other teen. He had kept his eyes on the road, but he noticed Blaine's hands clenched around the wheel more forcefully than they did before.

"I took you in my arms, bridal style, and I ran back to my place as fast as I could. There was blood everywhere on my clothes. I didn't really care though, I just needed you to be safe."

His gaze never left Blaine has he kept talking, He didn't know what to think about that; he did feel moved by the enthusiasm the other teen had deployed in order to save him, but he also felt uneasy. He knew that if they hadn't had sex on multiple occasions or been very deeply emotionally connected in some way, Blaine never would have confessed that. He watched as the curly haired man continued his speech with the same blank stare on the road he had adopted earlier.

"In my car, this same car we are sitting in, I knew I couldn't let you roll around in the backseat. I wasn't afraid your blood would stain the leather or anything like that, I just... I didn't want to get to the hospital to find you dead at the back of my car. I needed to know that you were still alive, to feel your heart beating against me. So I kept you in my arms while I drove to the hospital. You were just... there, half-dead, sitting on my lap and loosing all that blood and I hated that I never learned medical techniques to make the blood stop flooding. You know, like these things they do in movies. I hated that I couldn't help you more."

Kurt couldn't see Blaine's face but he just knew from the tone of his voice that tears were already falling down his face. The car was getting closer to what Kurt recognized as the neighborhood he had seen earlier.

"I visited you after school every single day during your stay at the hospital. I spent all my weekends there. My friends thought I was going crazy. I didn't even know you, but you didn't know yourself either. You knew nothing but my name, and the traits of my face, and tales of how I saved you. After a while you knew more about myself that I did. And you were so incredible... You always whined about the inedible cafeteria food and you requested to take showers all the time and I just knew this was the real you. I just knew you still had a personality, that you weren't just a puppet at my service. At first, it was as though, in the street that day, I had found some kind of a "build-your-perfect-boyfriend" kit, but after a while I realized I didn't even need to work for it. You had been my perfect boyfriend all along and you definitely still would have had been if we had met each other in different... circumstances. And you were so beautiful, and I was _so_ attracted to you. I couldn't handle it. I felt so horribly wrong for getting hard-ons in a hospital."

At that, Kurt blushed crimson red. Even though it was kind of creepy, he was immensely flattered by the other man's speech.

"After a while you got out of the hospital. Obviously, you had to get back to school, and you pleaded me to stay with you. After all, you had forgotten about everything in that establishment, including your friends. You needed more than just Finn and Rachel to feel normal, because yeah, Rachel visited you a lot as well. Mercedes only came once, and that's why you two aren't really in good terms anymore."

"You looked so hurt and you said I was your best friend. You said you needed me. And I was so in love with you that I couldn't just deny you that. So I transferred from Dalton Academy, where I felt safe and where I was protected from bullies like the one who almost killed you, to come to McKinley. Everybody was really happy to see you go back there, that you can be sure of. But everything was different. You told me on several occasions that you only felt really comfortable when you were with me."

"A few weeks into the beginning of our time at McKinley, everybody started assuming you and I were a couple. We didn't even question it and a few days later we were making out on your bed. It was probably the most intense first kiss the world has ever seen. We had never even held hands before and there you were, making me come in my pants a few minutes after the first touch of our lips."

Surprisingly, he didn't even blush that time. He just looked at his boyfriend with insistent eyes and he was making such a big deal out of analyzing everything he was saying that he almost jumped on his seat when the car came to a stop. He barely had time to glance at the nice-looking brick house, with its lovely wood deck and incredible flower arrangement, before Blaine talked again.

"We were so comfortable with each other that it didn't take long before we both lost our virginity. A few days later, maybe. We could never get enough of the other. And at the end of the year, while we were having coffee in the Lima Bean, I told you I loved you. You said it back."

He looked at Blaine one last time before pulling at the door handle and stepping out of the car. He turned around and stayed there with one hand keeping the door open as he stared at the other boy. "I... I truly wish I could remember all of that, Blaine. But the fact is, I don't."

The other boy finally let go of the persistent look he had on the car's windshield and turned his head to the side. His eyes were the one of puppies and he looked like a bruised child as he looked back at Kurt with tears running on his cheeks and trembling lips. "You could try to get to know me then. We could build some new memories together. But please Kurt, don't leave me. Don't slip away between my fingers when just yesterday you were telling me how much you loved me."

His hopeful eyes broke Kurt's heart. He might not be in love with the boy like the "other him" had been, and he might not be exactly look how Kurt had imagined his first boyfriend, but his own heart had been crushed enough times for him to pity Blaine. He seemed like a good person and he just couldn't do that to him. For a second, he felt the other himself, caged inside his body, screaming at him not to destroy his boyfriend... The guy he was in love with, the guy he shared everything with, the guy who had saved his life.

"Alright. Come by my place tomorrow by 11 am. You can help me find the journal Dr. Couillard was talking about."

With that, he closed the door. He glanced back at Blaine one more time to see him wipe his tears with a warm smile on his lips.

As the car drove away, Kurt stepped into the well-decorated house. For a moment, he feared that he had mistaken the house Blaine had parked in front of. What if it was the house on the _other side_? He could have had as well just removed his boots in Sue Sylvester's residence for all he knew. He walked further into the house and only took him one glance at the impressive decoration of the kitchen and he knew he had not made a mistake.

The Hummel-Hudson house was indeed a very charming place. The sun had already started to set and the warm light of the late-afternoon sunshine was barely illuminating the floor. Despite the fact that no member of his family seemed to be around and that it was only the second time he had ever really been there, it did feel a lot like home. He could definitely see himself eating a bowl of organic whole-wheat fruit cereals sitting at the counter in the morning. He could imagine himself sitting on the floor, ignoring the comfortable couch right next to him, wrapped in a blanket, so Finn could eat his chips without getting crumbs everywhere down the cracks of the sofa as they watched a boring action movie. He would be totally comfortable parking his car at the front or with cooking in the fancy silver oven. Or checking if anybody was home and race Blaine up the stairs, kissing him fiercely and removing his clothing.

For some reason, these thoughts seemed like a lot more than simple fantasies. They felt like memories. He was suddenly hit by an image of Blaine and himself slowly making love in the darkness of his bedroom with no other noise but their soft panting and the distinctive sound of hot summer rain hitting the glass of the window. He saw their bodies undulating in the humid sheets, and the reflection of the low blue light of the moon on the sweat on their skin. And really, Kurt thought, it was foolish to make love on such a warm night of the summer, when everybody else were trying to drown themselves into baths filled with melting ice or to fan themselves with everything they could find. But the house was empty and they wanted nothing else than to consume the other.

He pushed those thoughts away. What was wrong with him?

In the hallway at the top of the stairs, he found picture frames of his mom, family portraits of both the Hudsons and the Hummels, and one single picture of Blaine and Kurt dressed like Eskimos in what seemed to be a horrible snow storm, hugging each other and grinning at the camera. He did look a lot happier than he had ever seen himself. In fact, the simple fact that he wore that bright smile said a lot. He usually never smiled on photos. He disliked his smile. But with his boyfriend's arms wrapped around his shoulders and his rosy cheek pressed against his, he surprised himself with the thought that he looked beautiful.

When he got back to his room it was to find Finn sitting on one of his pillows with his legs stretched. Even though his feelings for the jock were slowly fading, he would have had been lying if he said his heart didn't start beating faster at the view before him. But honestly? Sitting on his _pillow_? That was _gross_.

He walked slowly to the bed and sat next to his step-brother. He had a feeling both of them had a lot to discuss about.

"Please Finn, can you not sit on my pillow?" he said neutrally without looking up. "I lay my face on it when I sleep."

"Oh, yeah, I'm sorry about that."

He didn't move.

They sat in the most awkward of silences for a few minutes, before the taller boy turned his head to engage some sort of a conversation.

"I know that when you lost your memory you still had a crush on me, dude. There's no need to feel tense." he said with a proud grin. "I know it all!"

Kurt blushed. "Don't flatter yourself. I am... slowly but surely getting rid of it. Now that we're brothers and all..."

Finn smiled. "I wouldn't worry so much about that."

He shifted on the pillow in order to get more comfortable, backing up on the headboard and crossing his feet. "The "old" you, the one who knows how it's like to live with me, definitely wasn't enamored with me." he continued as he toyed with a corner of the fancy brown comforter. "One time I stole the razor you used for your face to shave my balls."

"What?" Kurt barked out with a laugh, looking at his brother in astonishment. "Okay, I am already feeling my obsession for you slowly slipping out of my body!"

Finn joined him in his laugh. "Hey, don't make fun of me! You face always looks as soft as a baby's ass so I thought..."

"That's too much information, Finn." Kurt cut him with another snort.

"If it makes you feel better, know that Rachel absolutely _loved_ it."

"What did I just say about over-sharing?"

"And that other time, I got out of the shower and I couldn't find any clean underwear. So I ran to your empty bedroom, went through all of your stuff and stole those blue spandex boxers of yours. I wore them for three days straight and when you found out, you started crying, telling me that those were the boxers you wore the day you lost your virginity."

Kurt frowned in irony. "How could you do that to the old Kurt? Poor boy!" he mocked. "His precious Blaine probably touched the most sensitive parts of his body through the material of these boxers!"

Finn's head spun around to look at him in disgust. "I hadn't thought about that."

Kurt laughed. "Well, you should have had suspected it. I'm pretty sure Blaine touched my cock in every single pair of my underwear."

His brother burst out laughing as he shivered in horror. "That reminds me of that terrifying day when I walked into your room, planning to get my Xbox 360 back, to find you blowing Blaine on your bed," he complained, shivering in turn. "He was laying on his back, his thighs wide open and I swear you were like, totally deep-throating him. And shoving a dildo up his ass at the same time. It was a traumatic experience."

The smaller teen let out a small laugh. Blaine may have been a midget, but his hormones did enjoy the image. "Why did we even have your Xbox at the first place?" he asked.

"You guys always have the weirdest activities." Finn announced with a shrug. "From what I remember, Blaine had bought that Looney Tunes games and wanted to try it with you."

"So if I get it well, Blaine and mine relationship is characterized by Looney Tunes and a lot of sex?"

"Basically."

This time, it was Kurt's turn to try and make himself more comfortable. He rested both of his hands on his belly and reposed his head against the wood with a small smile on his lips. He had to admit that only short and meaningless conversation had changed a lot for him: he didn't feel nervous sitting next to Finn at all and in all honesty he would be willing to admit he did get rid of his crush entirely. In that moment, he really did feel like he was discussing with a brother.

Finn left his room a couple of hours later. Just before he disappeared into the hallway, he turned to face Kurt.

"You know, about Blaine? You're everything to him. You're his world."

His words haunted Kurt for the remaining of the evening. He didn't sleep well that night.

* * *

><p>You guys impress me, like woah, 31 reviews for the FIRST chapter of my FIRST STORY EVER? I am amazed. Please keep reviewing! I'm hoping it gets SO popular that one day RIB decide to buy the rights of it and make it into a MOVIE!<p>

IN THEATERS SOON! SOME KLAINE SEX!

No but seriously, expect some smut in the next chapter.

Love you! You're super awesome, please let me French kiss you all :D:D

theCuillère


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